


a note to the boy I love

by ConsentFest, violetclarity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Boys In Love, Communication, Consent, Dirty Talk (Sort of), Dry Humping, Epistolary, Established Relationship, First Time, Frottage, HP Consent Fest 2019, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, POV First Person, School Romance, Vignettes, letter writing, loss of virginity (but that's a social construct anyway), sexting except in letters because they are wizards, underage in that they are both seventeen (17)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-01 14:56:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsentFest/pseuds/ConsentFest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetclarity/pseuds/violetclarity
Summary: Albus knows what he wants to do in bed with Scorpius, but struggles with actually talking about it. Scorpius’s solution? Writing letters.





	a note to the boy I love

**Author's Note:**

> I’m very grateful to the Consent Fest mods for organizing this wonderful fest for the second year in a row, and for being understanding of the time it took me to crank out the final version of this fic <3 Many thanks as well to **nifflers-n-nargles** for guidance halfway through, and **frnklymrshnkly** for truly exemplary cheerleading and beta-reading, as always.
> 
> The title comes from a lyric I misheard in the Troye Sivan song _Animal_.
> 
> The prompt I used and my note about consent can be found in the end notes.

Scorpius rolls off me and I squeeze my eyes shut. I know what his expression is going to be: disappointed but trying not to show it. In the end it will look pitying and I don’t want to see it. It’s the same expression he’s worn every other time this has happened – every other time we’ve arranged, with secret whispers and glances, to have sex. Every time we’ve asked the other boys to stay out of the dorm, and they’ve given us a hard time but complied anyway. Every time we’ve been planning to do it. My stomach churns with nerves, I’m distracted all day thinking about it, but as soon as we’re here, in Scorpius’s bed, taking off our clothes…I freeze.

“We don’t have to do it if you’re not ready,” Scorpius says, like he has every other time. I open my eyes. He’s got his head propped up on one hand, looking down at me from the slightly higher angle. He doesn’t look so much disappointed this time as resigned, or he’s gotten better at schooling his expression so he doesn’t look so upset. Both options leave me feeling like crap.

“I’m ready!” I say.

I _am._ I want to have sex with Scorpius so much it feels like a part of me. I wanked myself raw over Christmas hols, alone in my room imagining all the things I want to do to him, and want him to do to me. But when he’s actually here…

“It’s not that I’m not ready,” I say. “I want to have...to do that. With you.” I’m blushing, now. What seventeen year old can’t even say even say the word _sex_ to his boyfriend? “But when it comes down to this, I just...I don’t know where to begin!”

It’s embarrassing, but it’s true. There’s no map for how to have sex with your amazingly hot boyfriend, no matter how much I wish there were.

“But you _do_ want to have sex with me,” Scorpius says. He says it in that way he has, like the answer is simple, like everything is simple, like he could give you a speech on this topic – the topic of sex and my wanting to have it with him – because Scorpius is well-adjusted and not prone to bouts of immobilizing insecurity like some people I know.

(Me.)

“Yes,” I say, because that is one of two questions of which I am completely sure of the answer.

(The other one, if asked by Scorpius, would be “do you love me?”)

(He hasn’t asked yet.)

“Alright,” Scorpius says on an exhale. “Is it that you...I mean, do you know what that would...entail? Because I can give you some books–”

“I know how sex works,” I blurt. It’s true. I do. That’s not the issue. In my mind I can give Scorpius the most perfect blow job known to man, and watch him return the favor; I can rim him till he cries. It’s only in real life that my years of stealing James’s dirty magazines fail me, and I can’t even bring myself to unbutton Scorpius’s shirt.

“Alright,” Scorpius says again. He sounds patient, but I worry I’m annoying him. Merlin, what is even wrong with me? I spent years pining after Scorpius, wondering if he’d ever want me, but he does, and now–

“It’s not an issue of knowledge, then.”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Hmm.” Scorpius has on his thinking face, a little frown that makes a cute crease in the middle of his forehead.

It’s not actually cute. I’m just too into Scorpius, as Rose always tells me.

He’s being so understanding, the least I can do is try to explain. “It’s like...I know what I want, and I know that I want it. But as soon as it comes time to...y’know, say the words...I just can’t.”

“You can’t say the words?”

I nod. “Yeah. And I know communication is important. I know we need to actually talk about what we’re doing instead of just _doing it,_ and I want to talk about it, I _do._ But there’s some mental block and I find I just...can’t.”

Scorpius’s eyes light up. It’s his idea face, and I adore it, just like I adore his thinking face, phenomenal sap that I am.

“Speaking of communication,” he says. “I think I have an idea.”

***

_Dear Al,_

_You aren’t allowed to roll your eyes until you’ve read this whole letter, alright?_

_I want to have sex with you. You want to have sex with me. But every time we try to get physical, or talk about it in person, it goes poorly. So what if we just...don’t._

_No physical intimacy for now. No talking about it in person._

_You told me you know what you want but you can’t say it. What about if you write it instead?_

_Let me know what you think, and remember, you aren’t allowed to roll your eyes at me!_

_Yours,_

_Scorpius_

***

Scorpius’s most recent letter, dropped onto my plate of eggs at breakfast this morning, is all I’ve been able to think about all day. _I want to do everything with you,_ he’d written, underlined twice, and scratched out below that, __  
~~Your mouth makes me think inappropriate things.~~  
I almost exploded my Draught of Distraction earlier in Potions, I was so distracted myself, and I haven’t seen Scorpius all day, but we have plans to study in the library after dinner.

When he spots where I’m sitting he smiles, and I barely let him drop his books on the table before I get up and drag him behind a tall bookcase so I can kiss him hello. He returns the kiss with enthusiasm, but ends it sooner than I want it too.

“Did you miss me?” He jokes.

I roll my eyes, but answer honestly. “Always.” I go for a second kiss, but once again he ends it before it can get as deep as I want. “Merlin, your letter–”

He presses a hand over my mouth. “No talking about the letters, Al. That was part of the agreement.”

I frown and pull his hand away. “But we already said what we’re both comfortable with. What else do we have to talk about?”

Scorpius just smiles. “You’ll see,” he says. “For now, I need to work on this Defense essay.”

***

_Dear Al,_

_Saying what we’re comfortable with is one thing, but I don’t think just knowing where our lists overlap (and I won’t say I’m not excited at just how much overlapping there was!) is going to be enough to make you feel more comfortable when it comes to actually doing things. I think you’ll feel better – and I will, too – if we can first get more comfortable with talking about things in a less, for lack of a better word, clinical way._

_So, if this is weird, tell me, but I’m going to start with this:_

_I think you’re really hot._

_(I hope this isn’t new information for you.)_

_I love your shoulders, and the way the muscles in them move when you come out of the bathroom to dry your hair. I’m always staring. You never notice, because you’re facing away, but it’s true. Your arms, too, and your hands. You’re so careful with them. You can do such intricate things, but they’re also so strong and every time I watch you dice something in Potions or run your fingers down the spine of a book before you open it (and you do that every time, have you noticed? Is it weird that I’ve noticed?) I imagine what your hands would feel like on my body._

_Merlin, now I’m blushing, and Rose is starting to give me a suspicious look because I told her I was doing a Runes translation._

_Please let me know if this was crossing a line._

_Yours,_

_Scorpius_

***

It’s not premeditated. I’ve been thinking how best to reply to Scorpius’s letter for a few days, although I wrote him a note to let him know that he hadn’t crossed any lines, knowing he would worry otherwise. As I’m leaving the shower stall, one towel wrapped around my waist and another draped over my shoulders, ready to get dressed before I go back into the dorm, I’m struck by the idea.

Scorpius said in his last letter that he likes to watch me dry my hair after I come out of the shower.

Usually I put on my trousers and vest before I leave the bathroom, but plenty of the other boys walk around our dorm in their pants or their towels.

On an impulse, I grab my wand and Banish my clothing.

When I walk out of the bathroom in only my towel, I purposefully don’t look at Scorpius. I go to my trunk at the foot of my bed and dig for another pair of pants and trousers. I can feel his eyes on me, and I give a quick smile.

“Forgot to bring my clothes into the bathroom,” I explain.

I stand and make a show of toweling off my hair. I pull my pants on underneath my towel – not feeling quite that brave yet – before I spell it off.

Scorpius’s intake of breath is audible as I bend over – and alright, I’m showing off now, sue me – to pick up my socks. Elliot, the only one of our dorm mates left in the room, notices and laughs. On his way out the door, he calls “Get a room!”

Behind me I can hear Scorpius stand. I finish fastening my trousers and turn to face him. He’s blushing, and from the way his eyes fly up when he realizes I’ve moved, was _definitely_ staring at my arse. I smirk.

“Enjoying the view?”

Scorpius shakes his head at me. “I think you know.”

“But I’d like to hear you say it.”

Scorpius steps in closer, so he’s almost right next to me. I can feel the heat of his body, his robes just brushing my arms as he leans in to whisper in my ear. “I’ll tell you in my next letter.”

***

_Dear Al,_

_I should have known you’d be dangerous once I gave you such vulnerable information – we are both in Slytherin, after all. I dread to think what you might do with this letter, but at the same time, I hope that when you receive it, I’ll be able to fluster you just as much as you flustered me this morning._

_~~Merlin, your arse.~~ _

_Do you know what I wanted to do to you this morning, Al? What I would have done, if we didn’t have breakfast and classes to get to?_

_Pulled you down onto my bed, taken those trousers right back off of you, and absolutely worshipped your arse._

_I want to experiment, to learn your body. I want to find out where I can touch you to make you shiver, where you like to be bitten, stroked, kissed, licked. I want to massage your muscles. I want to taste you there and see if you like it. (I think I would.) Salazar, Al, the things you do to me…_

_The things I want you to do to me._

_(Play along?)_

_Yours,_

_Scorpius_

***

Scorpius finds me in the Restricted Section.

Specifically, the part of the Restricted Section that used to be restricted to everyone, but is now only restricted to underage students, because it’s where the books about sex and the like are and Aunt Hermione successfully argued to the Board of Governors that such books shouldn’t be categorized with the truly Darke books. Although she couldn’t convince them that all the students should be able to view them.

Scorpius finds me in front of the books about anal sex.

I know what I want to do, or at least what I want to try. But I don’t know any of the specifics of how to go about trying, and I don’t know anyone in real life I could ask about it. Well, I guess I could ask James, but I would genuinely rather have sex with a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

“What are you doing? You weren’t at our usual table,” Scorpius says, coming up behind me and leaning his chin on my shoulder. I turn so I can curl my arm around his waist, and he leans into my side, finally catching a glimpse of the book I’m holding. It’s called _The Gay Wizards’ Guide to Amazing Anal._

“Oh,” Scorpius says.

My face is burning. “I just thought, um. I mean, I know how things _work,_ obviously. I just thought that it might be good to, um. Do some research. For preparation.” Scorpius snorts at the unintended double entendre, and I wish I could sink into the floor. But he has his arm around my shoulders, heavy and comforting, so I continue. “I thought that reading about things might make me feel more comfortable with talking about them. Like the letters.”

“Does that mean you’re feeling ready to talk about things?” Scorpius asks.

I know I’m not. Doing research is a preparatory measure. My ability to translate the things I imagine doing with Scorpius – and oh, do I imagine them, especially after I receive one of Scorpius’s letters, each more explicit than the last – into a real life scenario still feels out of reach.

The thought makes me nervous.

“Not yet,” I say, simply.

“Alright.” Scorpius squeezes me for a moment, pressing a kiss to my cheek. He’s so understanding, and the words I want to say to him – the words I always want to say – bubble up in my throat. But he hasn’t said them yet, and I’m worried it’s too soon. I’m worried that _I love you_ will be too much, even after all of his patience with this.

Before I can say anything, Scorpius smiles at me and steps away. “I’ll be at our regular table when you’re done.”

***

_Dear Al,_

_You’re right, I think a pause in the more, as you say, ‘descriptive’ letters is a good idea. Although I’d like to have some of this conversation with you in person just to make sure we’re on the same page, I don’t see any problem with doing a preliminary discussion via writing, as you suggested._

_More snogging right now – yes, I am definitely in favor, and I agree that knowing we aren’t going to go any further will take some of the pressure off._

_Hand jobs in the future – yes, definitely comfortable with that, giving and receiving._

_Fingering – definitely interested in trying it both ways._

_Oral – yes, interested both ways, but if you don’t end up liking it, that’s of course completely fine._

_Anal sex – like you said, I’m interested in trying it either way in the future, but I’m not sure I’ll like it, and I don’t think it’s anything we need to jump into right now._

_~~I know this is all pretty clinical, but thinking about sex with you still makes me hard.~~ _

_Yours,_

_Scorpius xx_

***

Our roommates are in Hogsmeade, and Scorpius is in my lap.

Kissing like this – long kissing, serious kissing, time-consuming, full body kissing – has been off the table for almost a month, since we started writing the letters. Even before that, once we’d decided to have sex, every time we were alone the pressure became too much and ruined the mood.

It’s been a long time since we’ve kissed for the sake of kissing, and I am thoroughly enjoying it.

Scorpius has his hands twisted in my hair. Mine are around his waist. He’s wearing a thin henley today, and I can feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric.

“Al,” Scorpius says, pulling away and nipping at my ear. “Have I told you lately how attractive you are?”

I blush and dig my fingers into his waist. I worry that I’m squeezing too hard, that I might be hurting him, but the way his body is settled against mine, chests flush, doesn’t seem like he’s uncomfortable. “You have,” I say, feeling awkward.

His lips are hot, breath damp as he whispers into my ear. “You are so fucking attractive, Albus Potter.”

I moan. I can feel Scorpius grin.

“I love your hair,” he says. “I love your eyes. I love your arms, and your hands.” He presses our foreheads together, his body curled over mine. Somehow I’m more horizontal than I was when we started, helpless to do anything but stare up at him, this amazing boy that I love.

I’m gripping his hips, palms on bare skin where his shirt has ridden up. We’re rocking together, now, and even though I was just wanting to be close to him, trying to get closer, now it’s obvious that we’re both hard. Scorpius’s eyes are locked on mine, whispering as we move. “I love how smart you are. I love the way you stand up for me, for all your friends. I love your voice. I love the way you make me feel. I love you, Al, I love you–”

I kiss him. I can’t help it; it rises up in me, a need more urgent than anything I’ve experienced. I kiss him, messy and unsophisticated, pressing our lips together, wanting to be as close as we possibly can. Scorpius gasps into my mouth, choked and vocal, and I realize it’s the sound of him coming seconds before I tip over the edge myself.

He breaks the kiss as we come down, and looks immediately bashful. The thought that he might regret it makes my stomach twist, painful.

“I love you too,” I blurt out. It’s never been more true.

His cheeks are pink, I think with pleasure, until I see that his eyes are shiny with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

A wave of devastation rips through me. Why is he apologizing?

“Sorry?”

He shakes his head. “You weren’t ready,” he says. He gestures between our chests, shifting in my lap. My pants are tacky, beginning to stick to my body. I want badly to cast a _Scourgify,_ but I don’t want to interrupt this conversation by going for my wand.

My brain is still struggling to catch up. “Ready?”

Scorpius looks miserable. “For sex.”

“I–” I can’t help but laugh. “I thought you were apologizing for telling me you loved me.”

His obvious horror at the thought is a balm of relief. “What? No! I mean – I didn’t mean to say it then. But I’ve been wanting to say it for a while.” He looks down at his hands, twisted in the hem of his shirt. “I was just nervous.”

I catch his hands. “Me too.” I smile. “I’m glad you said it.”

He returns the smile for a moment before his face falls. “But still. I– Albus. I _pushed_ you.” He looks like he might cry again. “And this was supposed to be just kissing. We specifically said–”

“I don’t regret it,” I interrupt. “Do you?”

“I… No. As long as you’re alright with it, I don’t regret it.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Well, that’s not completely true.”

I feel guilty for my attempt at a joke when another expression of horror dawns on Scorpius’s face.

“Nothing bad! I’m just…” It’s embarrassing to admit out loud. “Can you hand me my wand? I’m getting...sticky.”

“Oh!” Scorpius passes me my wand and I cast the spell at both of us. After he’s replaced it on my bedside table, he leans in to kiss me, and I return it happily.

“Hey Al.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

I smile. “I love you too.”

***

_Dear Al,_

_I appreciate your not-so-gentle reminders that you don’t regret anything and I shouldn’t feel bad. I know, intellectually, that you would have said something if you were uncomfortable. I just panicked in the aftermath, I guess. I wanted so much to make our first time good for both of us, and I thought that meant it had to be planned, especially with how nervous you were getting. But I know that communication is a two way street – just as much as we both need to check in with each other, we also need to speak up._

_I wonder if the fact that it wasn’t planned was what made it easier, in the end? Maybe every time that we said, ‘we are going to do X,’ it lead to you dwelling on it and thinking about it, versus having no explanations and not having the time to let the nerves build up?_

_That being said, I don’t want you to feel like just because we’ve done it once means it needs to happen again soon, or regularly. I’m perfectly fine waiting, and I’ll follow your lead on this one._

_Love,_

_Scorpius_

***

“Albus? Rose told me you wanted me to meet you– oh.”

Scorpius’s mouth drops open as he sees what I’m wearing. A nice shirt and trousers, nothing spectacular in the grand scheme of things, but much nicer than what I’m usually found in on the weekends. His eyes roam over the room behind me, now almost unrecognizable as an abandoned classroom, with the thick curtains I Conjured for the windows, the elegant sofa and luxurious bed at the far end of the room.

“Albus?”

I shrug, resisting the urge to fidget. “You said you were going to follow my lead. This is me trying to send you a signal.”

I’m pleased with the blush that suffuses Scorpius’s face. “Oh.”

“I mean, as long as that’s okay with you.”

He nods. “Definitely.”

I smile, holding out my arms. “Then why don’t you come over here?”

He reaches out and grabs my hands, twining our fingers together, but comes no closer.

“What?” I ask.

“I love you,” he says, quiet, squeezing my hands.

It makes me grin. “I love you too.”

“I was worried about saying it – I didn’t know if you were ready. You hadn’t said anything.”

I shake my head and look down, at our hands clasped together. “I was thinking the same thing. I wanted to say it for a while, but I was scared. I’m glad you said it.” I pause, pulling him closer so I don’t have to meet his eyes. “You make me feel safe, Scorpius.”

He tilts my chin up and we melt together in an effortless kiss. I’m so grateful to have someone I feel so comfortable with in my life. Sometimes I can’t believe it.

This part is easy – kissing we are well-practiced in. I only hope the rest of the evening goes so smoothly.

After several long moments of kissing, I’m getting hard. I can tell Scorpius is too, by the way he’s trying to angle his hips back and keep me from feeling it. Frowning, I nip at his bottom lip and grab his hips, pulling them flush against mine, unable to hold back a groan when our cocks like up.

“I told you I want this,” I remind him, teasing my fingers under the hem of his jumper. “Do you believe me?”

His lips are red from kissing. “Yes.”

“Do you want it?”

“ _Yes._ ”

I curl a hand around the back of his neck, pulling our foreheads together. “Then don’t try to hide how you feel from me.”

He kisses me again, and before I know it we’re stumbling backwards, falling onto the bed. I’m scrambling onto the pillows as Scorpius follows, trying to unbutton my shirt. The rush of _want_ and _need_ is countered by inexperienced clumsiness. Eventually we’re both shirtless, bare skin on bare skin, Scorpius above me just like last time. We’re kissing, grinding, and it feels so good – _so good_ – but this isn’t what I did all this for.

Scorpius’s expression when I push him back is confused at first, but it quickly veers into concern as he blinks at me. “Al?” he asks, but I stop him from continuing by flipping him onto his back.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I answer the unspoken question. “I just didn’t want you to come in your pants again.”

The combined expression of embarrassment and lust on his face sets a fire in my belly. Holding eye contact, I unfasten his trousers, pulling them down, and his pants along with them, before I lose my nerve. His cock springs up, long and pink, setting my veins alight with want. I push past the part of my brain that wants to wait, to think, to plan.

I wrap one hand around the base and suck the head into my mouth.

Scorpius’s reaction is instantaneous and gratifying; his whole body arches and he clamps one hand over his mouth to stifle a moan. I smile and repeat, repeat, repeat, bobbing down and sucking up – not the most sophisticated of blow job techniques, but it seems to be doing the trick, if the way Scorpius’s legs are clenching around my head and his knees are beginning to tremble, is any indication.

“Albus,” he moans, hands going towards my hair and then making a detour to wrap around his own thighs. “Albus, Al, _Al, fuck_ I’m close– _Al!_ ”

I pull off just in time and he comes, spilling over my hand as I stroke him through it. He’s still trembling faintly, both hands now clenching the pillow, his face and chest beautifully flushed. I want to put this moment in a Pensieve and save it forever.

“ _Albus,_ ” Scorpius says when he finally opens his eyes, catching my gaze, his voice deep and hoarse. “How did you– that was–”

I can’t help grinning to see my verbose boyfriend at such a loss for words. “I take it you enjoyed that?”

Scorpius rolls his eyes, reaching for his wand and cleaning us both off. Then he sits, grabbing my hand to drag me up towards him. He teases the zip of my trousers with gentle fingers, and it makes me shiver. I’m certain I’ll come the moment he touches me, I’m so turned on from having him in my mouth.

“I take it you did too?” Scorpius asks.

I kiss the cheeky smile off his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> How I approached consent in this story: I wanted to highlight how consent plays out between people for whom sexual experience, and therefore sexual consent, is new. Scorpius and Albus are established and comfortable in their relationship, but that comfort with each other doesn’t mean that communication is instantaneous; it is still something they have to work at, in this case by choosing a dedicated medium: letter writing. I also wanted to show that communicating about sex can take different forms, from checklists of what you are comfortable trying to dirty talk, and that even after this communication, things do not always go as planned – and that’s okay, as long as you continue communicating!
> 
> This was for prompt 81 - _Character A and B are in the beginnings stages of a romantic relationship (how they get there or if they're already committed is up to you.) Character A knows what they like, but they have trouble saying the words out loud. Character B really wants their first experience together to be good, but since A is so shy about what they want, B suggests they write letters for a while before doing anything physical. So they date without much physical intimacy, as their letters to one another grow more and more explicit. When will it all come together (pun intended)? I can't wait to find out!_


End file.
